


Wouldn't It Be Nice

by ghostbusters



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:27:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbusters/pseuds/ghostbusters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's been singing the post-grad blues ever since his parents uprooted him from his easy, lazy life in Texas to start anew in a town on the other side of the country. Life is one huge disappointment after another, from his lame filler job to leaving all of his friends behind. The one redeeming factor to his currently miserable existence -- his alarmingly interesting coworker named Armin. That is, if he could stop screwing up and making a fool of himself every step of the way.<br/>No one ever said becoming a functioning adult was easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the tide is high

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this under a different work link last year and almost abandoned it, but I really rather enjoyed the story I had in mind so I'm finishing it. This will probably be my last fic in the SNK fandom but this is the fic I always wanted to write, the characterization I always wanted to try. Not sure if anyone's into my style here but hey, the story is close to my heart because it's inspired by a lot of my own summers of the past so that's all that matters to me. I hope someone out there might also enjoy these two awkward losers in this weird post-college, 'struggling young adult' beach AU I'm using as my personal farewell to an honestly, really wonderful pairing.

There were few sights he loved more than the color of early mornings in Seaside City and Armin always tried to get a front row seat to the big show. Sunsets were pretty, sure, but a _sunrise_. A sunrise meant something. He didn't manage to see one every day, but when he did- he knew something good was going to happen.

Armin often told his disbelieving friends, 'Go ahead and watch the sunrise over the ocean and _try_ to be sad. Go ahead. I dare you.' People generally didn't care to watch, though. Nine to five jobs made people savor every second of sleep they could manage before dragging their sorry selves to their cars and turning the key to reluctantly rev up their day. They had no time to pencil in a sunrise.

On top of his obsession with the rising of the sun, everyone at the zoo made fun of Armin for biking to work everyday, but he wouldn't give the experience up for the nicest car that money could buy. Not that he'd ever have the money for that sinfully _gorgeous_ baby blue Ford Galaxie sitting lonely at the repair shop down the road from his house, but a boy could dream now and then. He'd been biking to work for nearly five years and he didn't foresee changing his routine anytime soon. No, sir. The burn in his legs was there to stay, just like the ever present saltiness stuck to his stringy blond hair. If Armin was driving in a car, he'd miss out on the breeze blowing directly off the ocean in the early mornings and the sound of the waves crashing.

Well. He supposed he'd be able to feel a breeze if he drove to work with the top down, but that wasn't the point. The car was out of the question. His bank account could answer to that.

Five or so odd miles later, he arrived at the Seaside County Zoo, a place he considered his second home. Armin glanced around after dismounting his bike, giving it a gentle pat as if it was a loyal pet.

“I'm sorry I was thinking of leaving you. See you after work,” Armin muttered as he chained up his bike to the gate in the parking lot. _Talking to my bike, geez. How lonely am I?_

The peace of the parking lot was broken with the sound of screeching tires and the heavy thump of bass. Armin turned and winced at the sight of the garish yellow sports car swerving into the lot. It was the ugliest thing he'd ever laid eyes on, neon yellow with an obnoxious racing stripe down the side. It looked like the embarrassing teenage years a school bus would rather forget happened. Armin lingered around by the gate, dying to see who drove that monstrosity, but whoever owned it wasn't getting out anytime soon. Oh well. Probably better off not knowing. He made his way inside the zoo to clock in and start his morning rounds before visitors began arriving. There were many hungry mouths to feed.

 - - - - - -

Jean felt like absolute garbage.

His entire life felt like garbage as he stared at his steering wheel, contemplating everything. Every. Little. Thing.

He thought about the fact that he was sitting in the goddamn parking lot of the goddamn zoo. He thought about how his mother had to wake him up and drag his sorry, twenty-four year old ass out of bed at seven o' clock that morning like he was back in high school. Jean glanced at his reflection in the overhead mirror, annoyed at the dark bags around his eyes. He furiously rubbed at the smear of toothpaste across his cheek. Typical.

With a defeated-before-he-even-began groan that drowned out the angry boy rock he was listening to, Jean harshly ran a hand down his face once more and tried to make himself slightly presentable.

“Goddamn it,” he grumbled as he swung open his door and stomped across the gravel employee lot. Ugh. He was about to be an _employee_ there. _Weak._

Maybe it would be better than moping around his parent's house all day (because that place was _not_ his house, thank you very much). _No way in hell_ , he thought as the old lady setting up at the ticket booth smiled and wildly waved at him like a woman possessed. He scowled and hung his head, hurrying up to the employee gate, kicking up dust as his feet dragged him numbly to the security office.

“Jean Kirschtein. Nice to see you. First day of duty, eh?” The head guard chuckled deeply despite the absence of a joke, large mustache bouncing as he searched for Jean's papers.

“Yeah. I'm here.” Jean shrugged.

The guard clapped him on the back and he rambled about the duties of the job and park regulations. Jean was only half listening. The night before, he'd read through the packet of information he'd been given after being hired and it all sounded familiar enough. He had it down. That was mostly because he'd spent the entire night reading the packet which was also the reason for his exhaustion. The papers sat on his desk all week long, pointedly ignored until Jean panicked and decided to start a late night cram session. Why he thought that was a smart idea was beyond even him- the cramming method didn't work in high school, didn't work in college, and definitely didn't work at his first actual job.

_Oh, so I'm calling this a 'real job' now? Ugh, take a step back, man,_ Jean thought to himself, refraining from actually gagging. At least he had a reason to drag himself out of bed before noon now. There hadn't been an ounce of motivation in his day-to-day since the 'Big Move,' or, 'The Worst Thing That Ever Happened to Poor Jean,' as coined by his mother. Fuck.

“Boy, are you even listening to me? Go get ready. Your shift starts in fifteen minutes.”

He snapped out of his daze and stumbled to gather up his uniform from the desk. “Yes, Mr. Pixis. My utmost attention. What. Uh, what was the question?”

Jean gave him a wince of a cheeky grin and hoped for the best. As in, not fired only five minutes into the job.

“You should probably go change. Don't make me regret this.”

Jean nodded curtly to his expectant boss, resisted the strange urge to salute, and rushed off to change into his new uniform. He found the locker room and promptly acted like a spoiled brat as he pulled on the stiff navy pants and matching short sleeved shirt. Shit, he felt fucking lame, mumbling complaints to himself as he roughly tucked his shirt in and studied his image in the mirror. Oh. Well. Take a look at  _that_ . Maybe it wasn't the worst uniform in existence- it fit him pretty damn well. He was incredibly grateful that he was alone in the locker room as he modeled his uniform, turning to see how he looked from the back. Jean let out a low whistle. Nice.

“Not half bad,” he said under his breath.

Say what you want about cliches, but people love a man in uniform. At least, that was his logic as he smoothed down his shirt and adjusted his collar. It wasn't as if people having a security guard fantasy was a widespread thing, but he supposed if he really wanted to he could pull off the hot cop vibe to some dimwit babes walking the boardwalk down in the tourist area. Maybe there were some perks to living in a corny vacation town.

Jean flashed his best attempt at a seductive smile and winked at his reflection, jumping as he heard the sound of poorly concealed laughter from behind.

“What the fuck are you staring at!?” He spat as the kid continued to laugh at him, obviously having been spying on his mirror preening. “Stop fucking laughing at me!”

“Calm down dude. New guy, right?” He was still grinning even as Jean slammed his locker door shut and brushed past.

“Fuck off.”

\- - - - - - -

The keys spinning around his fingers flew off for the third time as he paced back and forth in front of the lion enclosure. Jean scowled and bent down to snatch them back up, undeterred as he resumed twirling them again. He wasn't even worried that his face might get stuck in that sour expression. Hadn't his mother taught him anything? The job totally sucked though!

An early mess of day camp kids arrived by fleet of school bus, screeching and running amok before it was nine AM. This hadn't given Jean much time to learn the layout of the zoo complex. He was really regretting being a generally useless ass the week prior and not even driving over to check out the place he was going to be stuck working at for god fuck knows how long.

“Mister, um, which way are the gazelle?”

Jean cringed at the feel of tiny, sticky hands tugging on the leg of his pants. Gross, it was way too early to deal with smiling, cotton candy smeared faces staring up at him with all their high pitched questions.

“Go down that path and look for the sign,” he answered quickly and backed away to dislodge himself from the kid's grasp. Like he actually had any idea where the damn gazelle was, or if the zoo even had any gazelle.

“You look lost.”

It was the dude from earlier who'd caught him making an ass of himself in the locker room. Great.

“No kidding!” Jean said, throwing his hands up in defeat before slumping against the fence. “Do we even have fucking gazelle here?”

The guy laughed, kinder now than it had sounded in the locker room. “Over the south bridge, past the monkey house. There's a big open field back there with all the savannah animals.”

Jean nodded and said thanks, then made to resume his pacing. Alone. Apparently the guy had other ideas.

“I'm Connie.” Jean gave him a stereotypical bro head nod and tapped his name tag. Connie repeated the name he read, botching the pronunciation. Typical.

“Dude, not like the fucking pants. It's _Jean_ ,” he corrected.

“Cool. When are you going on lunch?”

“Why?” Why was this weird guy asking that?

“Geez, you're touchy. You look like you could use a friend on your first day.”

Maybe that was reaching a little, but some insider tips on the place certainly couldn't hurt. Jean let him know his break times and agreed to meet this Connie character for lunch. It would be better than eating alone, angry in his car, as was his original plan. He supposed 'anti-social dick' wouldn't be the best identifier to pin on him as the new guy. He kicked the fence of the lion area and left to go pace somewhere else and brace himself for being somewhat social in a few hours. As he paced in a new area, he focused on letting out the final dregs of resentment he'd brought with him that day.

Jean supposed he could use a fresh start. Or, he could at least give it a shot until the inevitable downhill slide of anything good in his life. He had to admit, no amount of whining and staying miserable would bring him back to Texas.

\- - - - - -

“So, you want to avoid going into the bird building.”

“At what time?” Jean was taking notes in a small notebook as Connie explained the ins and outs and the pros and cons of each area in the zoo.

“Ever! Just don't do it!”

“Why?”

“Look, none of the security guys ever do. Sure, they're supposed to, but birds are dicks. They'll shit on you and fly away without a care in the world.”

“How-”

“It's an open exhibit. All the animals are free to fly in there.” Jean cringed at the thought. Yeah, he didn't like the idea of having to walk around the rest of his shift with bird shit on his uniform.

He eyed a suspicious looking stain on Connie's shirt and pointed it out.

“Zookeepers are covered in animal shit all the damn time, so it's whatever. Smells awful in there too.” He ripped off a huge mouthful of his sandwich and then restated the most important part of his lesson, muffled through messy chewing. “Don't go in the fucking bird building!”

“Noted,” Jean agreed with a small smile. This Connie guy wasn't that bad, he decided. His notes had turned into silly doodles of the guy cartoonishly ducking from an onslaught of birds. “What about the other buildings?”

Connie went on to list the features of the other indoor exhibits, detailing the ones that a security guard could breeze through and in which ones patrons tended to cause the most havoc. Calling people out and scolding rule-breakers meant more work for Jean- and doing his actual job- but the prospect of kicking some jerk out of the zoo did have a certain thrill factor.

“Hey, don't let the power go to your head.”

“Shut up, I was only joking.”

Across the cafeteria, Armin sat at a table with a girl named Sasha, a fellow zookeeper. They peered over at Connie's table with heads together as they gossiped and giggled into their sandwiches.

“Who's that with Connie?” Armin wondered out loud, smile giving away the intent behind his question.

“Pretty cute, right?”

“Sasha!”

“Yeah, yeah. His name is Shawn or something. Works in security. Connie's taking him under his wing because apparently he's totally clueless. But hey, come on! He's _so_ not my type but I'll admit he's alright to look at. He can be as dumb as he wants.” She smirked and nudged Armin's side.

“I mean, if you're into the hipster frat boy look then I guess.”

“Yeah, _you guess_. I can see right through you.”

“Fine, he's attractive, alright? Not like I'm going to do anything about that. You know me.”

“Yeah, and that's _exactly_ why you need to do something about it this time.”

Armin groaned. “Don't let Connie hear you talking about the new guy.”

“Connie's not the jealous type, don't worry. And don't change the subject!” She eyed Armin's chips and retaliated. “Punishment!”

Sasha snatched the bag of chips from his hands and helped herself, laughing loudly in between mouthfuls at the blush on her friend's face. Jean was staring directly at them, narrowed eyes locked on target. Armin knew they'd been spotted.

“Who's that?” Jean gestured to the two previously trying to discreetly glance at their table from across the room.

Armin made brief eye contact again, but ducked down to stare at his lap, long hair now blocking his face. One time could be played off, but twice was just embarrassing.

“Those two? Ha, Sasha and Armin. Resident gossips.” Connie gave them a quick wave, returned only by Sasha, very enthusiastically.

“She's pretty cute.”

Connie slapped the table part in defense, part in disbelief. “That's my girlfriend, man!”

“How would I even know that? Wait, which one are you talking about? Please don't say the blonde.” Jean didn't usually go for the seemingly shy type, but there was something about the light haired one on the left, again subtly looking over and failing to keep the glancing a secret.

“Armin's a _dude_ , dude,” Connie explained, to which Jean only shrugged and nodded to the two across the cafeteria, grinning wider when Armin shyly managed to smile back.

“Whatever, my mistake. Do you think he'd be into me?”

Connie groaned and let his head drop, voice muffled by the table. “Hopeless, completely hopeless, Jean. I still have _so_ much to teach you.”

\- - - - - -

_Armin_ . His name was Armin, or at least that's what Connie had told him. Strange name, certainly not one he'd ever heard before. He hadn't gotten a good look at the guy's nametag when they'd briefly come into contact at the cafeteria trashcans. He'd been too busy staring at everything else- from those big blue eyes to the delicate upturn of is nose. Gosh, Jean was a sap. Or, honestly, kind of desperate at this point. He could attest to at least that much.

Whatever the case, he liked looking at him enough that he was still staring at the poor, unsuspecting guy when he should have been doing his job. It couldn't be helped. Guy or girl, Jean didn't care either way when the person in question was making those hideous khaki zookeeper shorts look as enticing as they were. Damn. He practically gaped as Armin bent over to clean the feeding tray in the kangaroo pen. That ass was sinful and Jean was swooning.

“Excuse me?”

“WHAT?” Jean yelled, maybe a little too loudly, too irritated, to the patron who'd interrupted his inappropriate staring. He was busy. How dare they.

Jean provided the offended mother with directions and went right back to his new favorite pass time. Only this time, he tried not to be completely creepy about it. He lingered around the area, pretending to do a perimeter check while his eyes were really skipping back over to the kangaroos and the hottie working there.

Wait? Where'd he go? Jean frowned. Oh well. He'd find him again, it wasn't  _that_ big of a zoo. He turned to leave the area for another part of the zoo, instead smacking right into the very person he'd been ogling for the last twenty minutes. Jean watched in disbelief as Armin freaked out on the ground, gathering up all the buckets and cleaning supplies he'd been carrying.

“Oh no. Damn it. I'm so sorry,” Armin rushed out as he wiped the old kangaroo feed from Jean's boot, muttering more curses under his breath as he gathered the pails.

“It's, uh, it's fine?”

What does one even say after all that? Normally something like this would absolutely piss Jean off to high heavens but he was kind of dumbfounded. He'd just spent so much time staring at the poor guy in a lustful daze and here he was, kneeling at his feet in a frantic mess.

“Hey, hey. It's fine,” Jean couldn't stand there and watch Armin flail any longer, it was becoming a little uncomfortable. “Get up.”

“Sorry.” He finally stood, awkwardly brushing his hands off on his already filthy pants. He stuck a hand out in introduction. “I'm Armin.”

Jean eyed the hand cautiously. Ew. Yeah, he was not touching that mess without really knowing what all Armin had been cleaning in the pen. Not like Jean was actually paying attention to anything other than the most shallow levels of observation. Armin dropped his hand, quickly remembering how gross he was right then.

“Oops. Um. Yeah. I'm gonna... go wash up. I have a lot to do. I have the prairie dog habitat after this and it takes forever.” He paused, feeling more and more embarrassed the longer Jean said nothing. “I don't know why I'm telling you any of this. You probably have a lot to do, too.”

“Not... really,” was all Jean said in response.

Armin gathered his supplies and promptly left, burning with continued embarrassment. “Bye, Shawn! Sorry for getting kangaroo shit on your boots!”

He quickly turned a corner and was gone, leaving Jean to stand there astounded. Hold on...

“Huh? Wait, _Shawn_? _Kangaroo shit_? Fuck!”

That's it, fun was over. His mind was changed- no degree of fine as hell backside was worth this. Jean stormed off to the locker room to thoroughly clean his boots. This job was so, so weak.

\- - - - - - -

On Wednesday, Jean had a change of heart and went back to sulking around like a creep whenever the opportunity arose. He spent his morning watching his new favorite zookeeper struggle to fix a broken enclosure gate for the better part of an hour. There was a lot of bending involved, thankfully. Jean could have offered to help and both get the ball rolling with starting anything with the guy and be a decent human being in the process, but Jean was in fact, kind of a dick.

Mostly a dick.

He spent his afternoon hiding around the corner and laughing hysterically into his hand as Armin flailed and shouted at a goose in the pond enclosure. The menacing beast stood between him and the exit gate, refusing to back down from its hissing and lunging fit. The more exasperated Armin grew, the harder Jean laughed.

Oh, it was too cruel. Armin appeared to be on the brink of tears. Every move he made to go around the bird made it lunge forward. He eyed the fence, about to just scale it and leave all his supplies behind for the moment. Jean couldn't watch any longer while he stood idle.

“Hey, need help?”

“Shawn! Oh, thank god.”

“My name's not Shawn, it's Jean!"

"Whatever! Help me!"

"What should I do? Grab it from behind?”

“No!” Armin threw his hands forward in protest, causing the goose to hiss again. He stepped back. “I don't want to hurt it.”

“Come on, it'll be fine! It's acting like a giant asshole,” The thing hissed on cue as if to reinforce Jean's point. “And it's just a goose for fuck's sake!”

“Absolutely not. Come here. And there might be children around, stop cursing.”

The goose snapped forward again and nipped Armin's leg, causing him to let loose a pained swear.

“Language, Armin!”

“Um. Oops.” Armin sighed in exasperation, dodging another lunge from the goose with disinterest at that point. “Can you just help me?”

They devised a simple enough plan- Armin would toss Jean all his stuff over the fence and then he himself would go over it the very same. He was much more comfortable climbing it with a spotter waiting on the other side, as ridiculous as he'd look. Jean caught the cleaning bottles and empty bucket as they were tossed over, wondering why those materials were cause of such bad luck lately. Then it was Armin's turn.

“Careful,” Jean said as Armin lost his footing the second time as he slowly climbed up the fence. It was only a little taller than the boy himself, but he wasn't the most coordinated of people.

“I guess this is karma for the other day, right?” Armin weakly joked as he hesitantly hoisted a leg over the top of the fence.

“Ssssh. Don't make yourself fall.”

Some things are spoken too soon. Jean's eyes widened as Armin slipped again. His arms shot up to catch him, grabbing a certain handful that made him desperately hold back a groan. Oh god, screw you cruel world. Red alert, hand on butt. Stay calm. He eased Armin down off the fence, trying not to make things any worse then they already were. Thankfully Armin made no comment about the accidental butt grab, more relieved that he hadn't fallen and cracked his skull.

“You know, how much damage could that goose really have done?” Jean asked.

“You're probably right. I kinda overreacted. Fun story though, right?” He rubbed at his neck and smiled slightly, intent on lingering.

The whole ordeal left Armin with adrenaline enough to maybe muster up the courage to actually talk to the hot new security guard who he totally knew was staring at him all week. He wasn't oblivious, you know. And not like the guy was  _at all_ sneaky.

Sometimes Jean spoke without thinking and sometimes he thought way too hard and said the wrong thing regardless. His next dramatic blunder was some weird combination of the two.

“Alright, look. I think you're really hot so do you want to go out with me sometime?” He asked and admitted all in a rush of breath, immediately tensing up straight as a rod as soon as the words left his mouth.

And then Armin laughed at him. Laughed right at him, right there in front of his face. What the fuck?

“Well, never fucking mind if you're going to act like a dick,” he mumbled to himself as he began to walk away. “Should have let him fall...”

“Hey, come back!” Armin ran to catch up with him, grabbing his arm to halt his defeat. “I didn't mean anything by that. I'm... a little nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“Well.” He sighed deeply, a little apprehensive about sharing so much about himself so suddenly, right there in the dang pathway but Jean deserved a little explanation in return for bruising his ego. “I haven't been on a date with anyone in a long, long, _long_ time so, yeah. I'd love to go out with you. Despite that.”

“Despite laughing at me?”

“It wasn't at _you_!”

That boy looked too unfairly cute when he was flustered and angry and Jean had the unexplainable urge to reach out and ruffle his soft looking hair. He refrained though- that would be a little out of bounds. They weren't 'there yet' for that sort of camaraderie. Even if his hand and Armin's behind were very rather well acquainted.

“I'm shocked you even asked me,” Armin said after a moment, in a very small voice.

“Hey, give yourself some credit. I was staring for a reason.” Jean even added a wink, how lame. “So. Friday? I'll pick you up?”

After a brief moment's hesitation and a deep exhale of breath, Armin answered, “It's a date.”

Hallelujah on high, this was reality. Jean almost couldn't believe he actually succeeded. The week began in an unfortunate struggle and look where things ended up. And It was only Wednesday. As they stood in front of the pond and programmed each other's numbers into their phones, goose still hissing and squawking away in the background, Armin's smile beamed like sunshine. As usual, Jean couldn't help but stare. He was always doing that anyway lately, though not quite so innocent.

But by the time Friday would be over, they'd realize that they'd both made a huge mistake. Some things are better looked at from far away. Like fine art, or delicate china. Never let a bull run wild in a place like that. There would be no further doubt in anyone's mind that Jean belonged in a damn zoo.

Nothing ever worked out for poor Jean Kirstein. Fuck it. Just, fuck his life in general.

 


	2. slave to the money

“ _Soooo_ I asked him out.”

“The hot guy from work you were drooling over yesterday?”

“Yeah, I asked like a total _idiot_ but we're going out Friday.”

“Uh... that's great?”

Marco Bodt had been Jean's best friend since they were young and innocent enough to think that throwing tanbark at girls on the playground was the best way to get their attention. Things in the dating world had drastically- and thankfully- changed since kindergarten, but Marco was still there to tell Jean that maybe people didn't like having parts of the playground thrown at them. In not quite the same words.

Now though, Jean's voice of reason was like, a thousand miles away and trapped behind a computer screen. Thank heavens for the wonderful invention that is Skype. Jean didn't know how else he would have survived without it, this final link to home. Talking to Marco was his one sanctuary where he could pretend he was back there and not actually living in fucking New Jersey, so far and disconnected from life in Austin.

Marco grinned uneasily at his friend. He was an open minded guy, sure, but it wasn't like his conversational topic of choice was discussing his best friend's guy crushes (not that there was anything wrong with that, _of course_ ). Advice on the topic simply eluded him, what was he even supposed to say?It was no different than girl advice, right? _Right?_ Whatever, it was fine. It was all fine.

“Jean, you know I'm always here to listen,” Marco said through that same lopsided, overcompensating smile.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” he said as he ran a hand through his hair, truly exasperated. “Where the hell am I supposed to take him in this fucking redneck town?”

“Is that really the best way to describe it? It's Jersey. You're probably a lot more redneck than him.”

“Hey. Marco. I don't take kindly to such mockery. Watch it, ya hear?” Jean jokingly played up a twangy intonation as he laughed.

Really though, him, a redneck? No way. He didn't even have the famous Texan accent. Well, after years of practicing to suppress it, the world would never know his dirty secret. He certainly did burn up like a lobster in the sun but hell if he had actual plans of laying out on a dirty Jersey beach.

“Whatever, cowboy. Anyways, where'd you take people in Austin? Seaside can't be that desolate. Go to some little coffee shop. They're an epidemic everywhere.”

Jean groaned, “That's so lame! And the problem here is that I haven't been on a real first date in a long time. _Years_. You know that, man.”

He really thought that whole side of the predicament was implied and had counted on Marco to pick up on it. The guy usually read Jean better than Jean read himself. He seemed distracted. Marco only hummed in response and gave a strange little quirk of the head.

“I know. I know.” Marco knew all too well all the intricacies and drama of Jean's last big relationship before the move.

“How is she by the way?”

Marco answered quickly, clipped. “Fine. As fine as she normally is. You know.”

They both kept repeatedly reminding each other of that. They both really _knew_ , you _know_?

“She rarely responds to my texts.”

“Not like you ended things well with her. What did you expect? Plus, you're all the way out there for who knows how long.” Jean scoffed at the truth. “Just being honest.”

Ouch, though. Way to be blunt about it. Not liking the turn the conversation was taking, Jean said his goodbyes and logged off, tossing his headset in aggravation. There was nothing Marco said that wasn't true, but Jean didn't want another reminder of how much of a fuck-up he was.

She didn't miss him. She didn't care that he was gone and it hurt. And Jean knew this already without asking Marco and that hurt even more. He knew she was long gone from his life. He _knew_ , ok?

In a moment of rashness and anger, Jean deleted her phone number and immediately regretted the decision. One less link to home was gone with the hasty click of a button.

\- - - - - -

The tie was a stupid idea and Jean ripped it off, flinging it away the exact moment his mother started cooing and rushing over to get her grubby hands on it.

“Mom, I'm not fucking thirteen anymore, calm down.”

She settled on fixing his collar as a consolation, smiling madly as she smothered her tomato red-in-the-face son. Soon enough, the tie was somehow in her grasp again and she attempted to rework it around Jean's neck.

“ _Mooom_ ,” oh what an impressive whine from someone well past the prime of childhood tantrums, “get off me! It's a date, not the goddamn junior high semi-formal. I'm not wearing the damn tie now!”

“Honey, you haven't been out with anybody new in a long time! I'm excited.” Jean rolled his eyes as she patted his still flushed cheeks. Powerless, he was powerless against this relentless woman. “I'm happy for you. Hon, aren't you happy for Jean?”

She turned and smiled at her husband lingering with arms crossed in the entrance to the kitchen. The expression on his face mirrored his son's own embarrassment.

“Let the kid go already, he's twenty-four years old for God's sake!”

“Thanks, Dad. _Shit_.”

“Language!” his mother scolded, lightly smacking his shoulder before finally taking a step back.

As per the Kirschtein way, his dad couldn't hold his tongue for long.“Who is this _boy_ anyway? What does he do for work? You didn't meet him at one of _those_ clubs downtown, did you?”

Jean could very well scream at that point. “Dad! Honestly? I'm not talking about this with you.”

He continued despite Jean's attempt to make a break for the front door. “Does he work with you in security? I mean, it's surprising that you found someone else... you know... also in your line of work, but-”

“Dad, holy shit. I'm gonna stop you right there before you embarrass all of us any further. I'm leaving.”

“I'm trying to make sure my son is taking out someone respectable! Regardless of-”

The man was cut off a second time, but this time it was by the slamming of a door as Jean fled the hopeless situation in his living room. He could hear his mother start up on some loud tirade as he sped down to his car. Just, wow. He loved his parents, he really did. He could have landed with much worse but they were far too much to handle sometimes. _Most_ of the time. His mother meant well but never truly learned where the line ended and his _father_ , well. The man was trying in his own way, even as backwards and awkward as his attempts were. He hailed from the heart of Texas after all, who could blame him? But the man honestly was trying.

Regardless of his parent's best intentions, the faster Jean saved up his own money the faster he could start searching for his own place. The time to let his parents enjoy their retirement in peace was well overdue, in any way that didn't involve Jean's daily mortification as their sole source of entertainment.

Now wasn't the time to think about that. Jean turned up the radio and revved his car's engine. God, he loved the deep sound it made as he raced out down his street. It left an impression.

Not long later, Armin peered through his blinds, brow furrowing in disapproval at the obnoxious sound and sight pulling up to his house. He should have figured that Jean would show up in that garish yellow monster, but somehow didn't count on actually riding in that thing. Maybe they could walk somewhere. The boardwalk and the beach were only a few blocks away from Armin's modest little house. _That would be fun_ , Armin mused. He flipped the blinds back up as the car window rolled down.

The sun was setting as Jean lowered his sunglasses and gave Armin's place of residence the standard once over. Huh. Weird. Was he renting for the summer? Jean thought it was strange when he pulled into this part of town, where the tiny little summer beach houses nestled snugly past the beach front blocks of newly built condo buildings and nostalgic motels still hanging on for their lives. He saw the blinds move and decided that the best way of getting his date's attention was to press furiously on the car horn. Repeatedly.

“Did he really just do that?” Armin mumbled out loud to himself at the sound of the horn.

He toed on his shoes, face stuck in a wince and half regretting the entire idea of the date. No. No, he had to do this. His friends would never let him live it down if they found out he backed out of yet another date. Jean deserved a chance- he was probably nervous too, being new in town and all. He didn't seem to have any real friends yet.

“Hey, took ya long enough!” Jean yelled through a laugh as Armin hurried down the small path from his door. The sudden noise made the poor boy stumble, but he fought off his embarrassed flush and settled with forced calm in the passenger seat of the car. It smelled like he just dove into a cloud of middle schooler's choice cologne.

His nose twitched as he gave Jean a tiny little smile. Jean nodded his head in a greeting and took off down the road, entirely too fast for the sleepy little part of town where Armin lived. Oh, this was _not_ a good sigh at all.

“Where are we going tonight?” Armin asked, voice shaky and loud over the music playing.

“I know a place, my parents took me when we first moved. It's pretty nice, downtown and away from all this tourist shit,” Jean turned down his radio a little bit so they didn't have to shout over the blaring music. “I hope you like Italian food, dude.”

Armin cringed, guessing the kind of place Jean was taking him. “I mean, there's a lot of actually really good places on the boardwalk. We could just go there, if you want.”

“Are you kidding? When I say I'm taking you out, I'm taking you out! This'll be so much nicer, believe me.”

Armin said nothing for the remainder of the drive. He knew the entire gesture was supposed to be impressive and all, but he was starting to feel more than a little uncomfortable. He simply wanted to walk around the boardwalk and get to know a boy he kind of liked, not potentially sit awkwardly at a four star restaurant.

Which was exactly what happened.

White linen table cloths. Confusing silverware. Ivy on the decorative lobby pillars. And Armin's cut-off denim and green hoodie. He felt like a fool, eyes focused on the buttons of Jean's gray dress shirt. A fool, a damn fool. He slouched further down in his chair the more Jean droned on and on about menu options and which wine they should order.

“We wouldn't have to worry about the proper wine if we went to the boardwalk,” Armin softly said to himself, face hidden by the menu.

“Hmm? The Bordeaux? Not my first pick but maybe you're on to something, Arm.”

 _Arm_ frowned. He didn't think they were quite on the nickname level yet, but he let it slide. Anyways, his voice caught in his throat before he could protest the name, as the waiter approached in inquiry of their drink order. All he wanted was a cherry coke but he quietly asked for a glass of whatever Jean was having. It was better that way, no hassle. Not like he could even name a single type of wine beyond red or white. This sucked.

The waiter returned far too soon to collect orders and Armin panicked. “Um. Sorry. I have no idea what to order. Sorry.” Armin wished he hadn't said sorry so many times. It wasn't his fault.

Jean grinned and closed his menu. “Want me to order for us?”

Armin nodded and promptly downed his glass of wine, choking on it a bit in his haste. The waiter gaped at the display before composing himself to ask their selections. Unsurprisingly, Jean proceeded to butcher Italian while ordering something not as exotic as he thought. There were only so many ways you could jazz up pasta and tomato sauce but pretend otherwise, which pretty much summed up the entire evening quite well.

For far too long after ordering, Armin tapped his fingers against the table, glancing around in hopes that some conversational topic would breeze into his head. Because neither of them were saying anything. Well. He decided to be the bigger person and break the silence, however mundane a topic it was sure to be.

“So. Where are you from originally?” He hoped he sounded sincere and not as nervously bored as he was. They were almost an hour into their date and had barely breached small talk.

“Texas,” Jean deadpanned.

“I knew that much. It's a pretty big state. Actually, it's the biggest state, land wise.” Oh god, he was rambling. “Not biggest in population. That would be California with a population slightly above Texas but, oh! I totally forgot about Alaska! Alaska-"

“Austin. I'm from Austin.”

Armin let out a long breath after talking so fast. “Why did you move here?”

Eyes were rolled and his chair was tipped back in standard, douche-bag fashion to show that Jean was _so_ very above it all. It was time to rant about the Big Move, his favorite sob story as of late.

After taking a generous gulp of wine, he finally answered. “I didn't choose to. My parents made me. Do you really think I chose to move to Jersey of all places? Hell no!”

Armin chose to ignore the insult to his home state and continued the struggle to carry the conversation civilly.

“You didn't have a choice?”

This was his cue to delve into his 'Poor Little Rich Boy' rant, although Jean would never refer to it that way. It was more like 'Boo-Hoo, I'm Twenty-Four and Never Had a Job of My Own So Technically I Don't Have My Own Money or a Sense of Responsibility,' but he would never refer to it as that either. And it wasn't nearly as catchy. Both gave the same general idea, though.

“Well. I guess not then,” he commented once Jean stopped listening to himself talk. Armin avoided his gaze. What was he supposed to say now? He really wanted to crawl under the table.

In all honesty, Armin was feeling more and more put off as Jean recounted his life post brilliant, amazing, most important city on this forsaken Earth: AUSTIN. Invisible flashing lights surrounded that word each time Jean breathed the name. Armin's currently least favorite city was freaking Austin. Someone could hand him the exact cash for that dream car he had his eye on, with the stipulation that he spent one minute in that city, and he would still say no way. Goodbye, Ford Galaxie. It was nice knowing you.

He didn't learn a lot personally about Jean during dinner, other than the fact that he more often than not chewed with his mouth open and rudely snapped for the waiter. What Armin did find out was exactly how Jean felt about his parents (bitter and resentful), his job (fucking sucks), and the entire state of New Jersey (America's asshole). Other than a desperate defense of his hometown that was mostly unheard, Armin barely said anything. He pushed his fettuccine around dejectedly and powered through the dinner.

It really could have been fine and not a disaster, Armin mentally admitted while Jean smugly paid the check, flashing his parent's lent gold card around like an ugly intruder. Really, with proper warning for appropriate attire and a lot less arrogance on Jean's part, the date could have been sweet in a try-hard sort of way. But it wasn't. It sucked and that was a shame because all and all, the food was nice. As nervous as he'd been, Armin was genuinely excited for the date, once upon a time.

“Verdict?” Jean asked as they exited the restaurant. Armin shrugged and forced a really strained smile. “That's all? Wow, someone's picky. Come on, we'll leave.”

Not wanting to appear as rude as his date acted all night, Armin added, “The food was fine. I guess I didn't expect some place so fancy is all.”

It wasn't _all_ but now wasn't the time to get into it.

Jean laughed. “It wasn't _that_ fancy. Maybe for Seaside but whatever, I don't know this town. Anyway, want to go for a drive?”

He grinned a toothy smile, leering back and forth between Armin and the car as if the suggestion was the most appealing thing offered to another human. As if no person on earth could resist such a tantalizing temptation. Jean slapped a hand on the roof of the car in impatience when Armin continued to say nothing.

“I've gotten this beautiful monster up to 125 on the highways outside Austin.” Armin flinched involuntarily at the name of the city. “It's a fucking rush. Tell me that isn't exciting?”

“Maybe this monster should just take me home instead? Not really up for all that excitement. Uh, another time...”

“Fine, fine. I see your play here,” Jean said with a wink. Once they were in the car, he revved the engine loudly just for the hell of it and then they were off.

And, no, he didn't see Armin's 'play' because there was no play. Armin only wanted to get home, relax, maybe scream into his pillow for a little while, and call his best friend to vent and scold him for pushing him back into the dating world. He figured that a new record had been set that night for how quickly the prospect of a dating life was abandoned. It probably happened about a minute or so into the car ride to the restaurant, but Armin was internally debating if he'd checked out at the first obnoxious blast of the car horn. Really, what kind of person didn't even have the dignity to walk up to the front door on a first date?

Soon enough, but not actually _soon enough_ , they reached Armin's address. The car was shut off and they were left in tense silence. What was the protocol for a failed first date? Armin had only been on one other first date and that had led into a three year relationship, so he honestly had no idea. Even with his dating experience (lack thereof) non-withstanding, he understood that sprinting from the passenger seat and locking his front door behind him would break a handful of polite social norms.

“So. Armin.” Jean said his name like it was a desert, slickly sliding it off his tongue and turning his head just so to gaze at the other boy. “Where's this night headed?”

Armin could almost groan at the arm now perched across the back of his seat but he squeaked uncomfortably instead. The guy was persistent. Confident. _Annoying_. Nervous laughter began to bubble up as Armin racked his brain for the politest way to turn him down and escape.

“I think I'm gonna head in. Not... feeling too well.” Oh it was so lame, such a lame excuse.

“Really?” Jean wasn't buying it.

“Really as in really tired, you are correct.” Armin laughed a little more at his failing attempts to ditch this guy.

Jean was staring expectantly as Armin focused on unbuckling at a believable pace instead of ripping the seat belt off and flinging himself out the door.

“Uh, I'll see you at work?”

“I had a nice time!” Jean blurted out, borderline panicking when Armin's hand met the door handle. “Even if you're too tired! Next time will be better.”

Before Armin could react and brace himself, Jean was leaning over the center console. Oh no, oh gosh no. He was attempting to initiate some awful, awkward goodbye kiss. Armin, in some desperate and snap reaction, put one hand on Jean's face to stop him and slammed the other firmly down on the door handle.

“Armin, what the fuck-”

“I have to leave now! Bye!”

Something was being called to him as he ran the short distance up his lawn but Armin wasn't slowing down to listen. The door felt heavy against his back as Armin caught his breath. At the sound of the car peeling down the street and the telltale sound of screeching tires, he slid to the floor and began laughing uncontrollably. The entire evening seemed ridiculous now that it was over. His breath hitched as he continued, laughing harder than he had in a very long time, feeling both relieved and also embarrassed for them both.

\- - - - - - - - -

“Why do you look so butt hurt?”

Jean mumbled something about his failed date two night prior to Connie, who understood enough of the muffled sounds to have yet another laugh at Jean's expense. Work was as awkward as to be expected following the now infamous Friday night. Connie told Sasha who told Armin that Jean was still moping about it. With all the second-hand news flying around, Jean wondered when he'd re-enrolled in high school.

Despite his friend's pestering, Armin declined to gossip about the situation. It was embarrassing for him too, having to avoid Jean's avoidance at him, trying to act both normal and distant at the same time. They still had to deal with being co-workers after all. And what was there really to say? They'd both gotten their hopes up, albeit in different ways, but ultimately both were disappointed when the night came to an end. Armin didn't feel that bad. A little bad, but he didn't feel that Jean made that great of an effort to leave a lasting impression.

He did have to wonder if his own nerves played a part. Oh, the deepest sigh yet in a series of conflicted noises Armin made when he analyzed the situation too long.

“Dude, are you still torn up about the Armin thing?”

“Right now I'm a little more aggravated about the kid I watched puke over by the llama pen, but yes to your annoying question.”

Connie sat down on the bench next to Jean, needing a break as well from the overly rowdy kids mobbing the zoo that day.

“Look, if you really need to get laid that badly I'll take you down to the boardwalk this week to scout. This is usually a pretty good college party week.”

Jean laughed. “I'm not _that_ desperate. I mean, don't get me wrong, if the opportunity presented itself then great but...”

“But you liked him, right?”

“I don't know. Don't make it more than it is, man. He's attractive as hell, come on. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't trying to hit that the other night. But I don't know. I'd rather at least try to make something out of it than force some one night lay at a stupid, drunk beach party with some hyped up college freshmen. I'm beyond all that.”

“And there's no chance of giving it another shot with him?”

“Nah, I probably blew it. Just feel like an asshole whenever I look at the guy. He looks at me like I'm pathetic most of the time now.”

“I'll agree with him there.” Jean playfully punched Connie's arm and told him to fuck off. In the distance they could hear the foreboding roar of the zoo's lion. “See? Even Waldo agrees. 'Jean Kirschtein is a pathetic ass'. He's telling everyone.”

Jean cracked an actual smile for the first time that day.

“Who the fuck named the lion Waldo?”

\- - - - - - - - -

After a long shift of screaming children, frustrated parents, and no real crisis other than frantic requests for directions that Jean still hadn't gotten down yet, the day was finally over. Jean had the next day off thankfully and planned on lying around his house and playing some video games online with Marco while his friend was in between classes, the pompous grad-school jerk. Jean was about to get in his car when Connie came running up to him, completely out of breath.

“I'm so glad I caught you, I need to tell you something.”

“Dude, texting was invented for a reason.”

“Whatever! I was talking to Sasha just now and she gave me some great advice.”

“About?”

“Your big gay dilemma!” Jean made an exasperated face and opened his car door. “No wait, that was probably rude. But you do still like him right?”

“I mean, I guess? It doesn't matter, it's over. I'm totally over it. It's definitely not a big deal.”

“Yeah, I bet. You, the king of moping around doesn't even believe it himself, come on!”

Jean sat heavily down in the front seat, really wanted to just leave the damn place already.

“Why does everyone care about this so much?”

“Honestly? It's super boring here and you're the new guy. We don't get a lot of interesting drama here and especially not with Armin.”

“Oh, I'd never have guessed this place was dull as fuck. Thanks for clearing that up,” Jean sarcastically replied. He really, really just wanted to go home.

“I can definitely see that charm that won Armin over coming through now, you're such a catch.” The car engine started and Jean slammed his door shut. Connie didn't have plans of relenting yet and tapped on the window until Jean caved in and rolled it down.

“Ok, what? What was your life changing advice you had to come running up to tell me?”

“Sasha told me to tell you to talk to Eren! He'll definitely help you out.”

At this point, Jean lost any hope of leaving the zoo parking lot without Connie dragging this conversation on and on. He wasn't used to people meddling in his personal life like this, not in a long time at least. _Fuck it_ , he decided. This was his life now, dealing with these people at this little zoo in this crappy beach town. He was on his own and he had no idea how long he was going to be stuck in Seaside. Might as well embrace the downward spiral he was getting on and try his best to enjoy his ride to the bottom.

Or, maybe he was already there. What the hell ever. He had literally nothing to lose at this point as he left his personal idea of his dignity behind the moment he put on that security guard uniform in that scummy locker room and Connie laughed at him. These people were all ridiculous as hell and he figured a small dose of it wouldn't hurt.

“Alright. You win. Lay out the facts. Who the hell is this Eren character?”

“Excellent! It's a long story, but first- can I bum a ride home?”

Jean smiled and motioned for him to get in. He drove home without turning the radio on, Connie's excited chatter enough to fill the entire car ride.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [TUMBLR](http://theghostbusters.tumblr.com/)


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